Friday, September 9, 2011


I am one of those people who has a hard time forgiving, especially themselves. Rarely do I not punish myself by when I make even a simple mistake. When sizable things happen, I will sit for hours and think about what I did to the point where I'm so low in a pit that it's hard to get out.

I've become a good climber in the way that I can push my problems to the back of my mind. Bottling it up, I guess you could call it. Those problems just ferment and get stronger as time goes on because I do nothing about them. I've only ever once lost control and just overflowed with every emotion imaginable at once (that was scary). I don't know how to handle it any other way. I'm not an angry person and I'm not about to let myself become one. Instead of perfecting my climbing skills, I would much rather learn to stop beating myself up for every single mistake I've ever committed.

When I was a kid, whenever I did something wrong, my mom would make me sit in the corner and think about what I did. Eventually, she got me so well trained that when I did something wrong without her knowing, I would still put myself in the corner. I punished myself. It's obvious where my mentality derives from. That's not a bad method for raising children, better that than spanking or worse. However, that mixed with everything else going on in my childhood, it just screwed with my conception. I learned that I was not allowed to make mistakes or my mom would yell at me (I cannot stand yelling, and my mom has a great set of pipes on her). That's transferred rather nicely into adulthood.

Some people physically mutilate themselves. Mentally, I do the same thing.

I need to learn that I am human and I am allowed to make mistakes. Let go, Kelsy. Let go.

I need to forgive myself.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Carnies, Carnies, Carnies!

Yesterday I was at the carnival. I was wandering around, watching the countless numbers of people enjoy themselves on rides, playing games, and being generally merry. There was a booth with a man on stilts, teaching poi, and other circus activities. I asked him how one gets into this line of work. He smiled at me and said, "You have to let the thing that holds you back not do its job. You just have to go for it. No reservations." He went back to teaching kids how to spin poi leaving me to think about that.
That's how I've been trying to live my life for the past year and I've become a hell of a lot happier since. I took this as a sign that I should just apply. After a ride on the Gravitron and the Scrambler, I did it. They told me to come back the next day and they would put me to work. I was astounded at how easy it was, it must have been meant to be.
Today I start working and on Monday, we leave for the next town. I couldn't be more excited! Another adventure is about to begin.
I am a carny!

I'll be back in Marquette in September or October.

Monday, July 11, 2011

New York Misadventures

Did I ever tell you about the time I got sexually assaulted on a bus to New York? Well, I'm about to.

I was playing my ukulele in the Chicago bus station. It was shortly after Thanksgiving and I was on my way to NYC to visit my VKA family (traveling is cheaper shortly after the actual holiday season). The bus station was bustling with life. People going back home from visiting their families, probably still full from the turkey and potatoes.

Two men in Navy gear get in line behind me, I look up from my uke and smile at them, they return the smile. One of them notices a Dresden Dolls patch on my shoulder and strikes up a conversation. I talk with him for a while, then the other one swoops in and soaks up all my time. He was a little overbearing and needy, but I deal with it. He seems like a nice enough kid.

He asked if he could sit next to me on the bus, and I accepted. We got on the bus and he's okay. He's a little too touchy for my taste, but I deal. Until he asks me if he can rest his head on my shoulder. I was apprehensive and didn't know what the hell to do, so I stupidly said he could. He constantly said really creepy things like, "If my girlfriend knew about us, she would be SO mad." Us? What's us? Seriously. So I got on my phone and signed on to AIM. I started talking to my friend Ameara. We start talking about how awesome vaginae are. He's watching our entire conversation, so I thought he might get the hint. He didn't.

As soon as he went to the bathroom, I started spewing the story to Ameara. I begged her to help me get this asshole OFF of me. So we were the biggest dykes together on the phone when he got back. It still didn't stop him. Eventually, my phone started to die and I had to get off. This is when he swooped in. He put his hand on the inside of my thigh and started kissing my shoulder, slowly working his way up to my neck. I let him do it for a minute, as I was petrified. I let it happen for only about 5 seconds, and then I told him to stop. My excuse was that I was tired and I needed to sleep. I didn't, I just didn't want that creep on my neck.

If it had been today, I would have told him to back the fuck off eons before I did. I was just a naive country girl with a strange man kissing her neck, scared shitless, not knowing what to do.

The world isn't as peachy as I like to think it is sometimes.

Thursday, June 16, 2011


The topic of spirituality and religion has always been something that interests me. Growing up, my mother introduced me to a number of things. Christianity, Wicca, but I mainly grew up on Native American traditions. I don't remember a time when my mother didn't have a stick of sage to smudge the house with.

In high school, I researched many religions, but none of them seemed to click, so I began to call myself an Agnostic. I said that there could be something, but until there was tangible proof of a God, then I would remain an unbeliever. I was firmly rooted in logic and science, because everything could be proven. My mother always said that as long as I had some sort of spirituality, she would be happy. When I told people this, I would always laugh and say "Oops!" because I did not.

Today I am still rooted in logic and science, but I think there is something behind the scenes, working the set changes, keeping the props in order for us, the actors.

My ex girlfriend is a hardcore Atheist, it was something we bonded over when we first met. Over time, I started to become more open to the fact that there could be a higher power. I don't know exactly what happened, but suddenly I started to see things in a different light. Magic surrounded me, karma was working, and the stars were aligning. I was moved to start looking into Wicca and other forms of Paganism.

I excitedly told my girlfriend everything, finally happy that things were making sense. She looked me straight in the eye and said, "Don't." She spoke to me as if she were speaking to a dog that had just been naughty. She commanded me to not research something that I was very clearly passionate about. I told her that she wasn't going to stop me, so she smiled and said in the most condescending tone, "I hope you don't mind if I laugh at you." I was insulted and couldn't believe that someone who claimed to love me would say these things. How dare she judge me for something I believe in. This lion cannot be caged by closed minded garbage.

I never judge people based on their religion (or lack thereof), I judge people based on how they treat others. What religion is is suggestions on how to be a good person. They all have the same foundation: Don't be an asshole and do what makes you happy. That's all. As long as you do that, you're on the right path. Do whatever makes sense in your head and don't worry what others think.

All spiritual roads lead to the same place.

Want to see what inspired this blog? Check it:

Monday, May 16, 2011


It's a gorgeous spring day in Chicago, IL and I'm sitting at a Starbucks on Halsted. I'm sipping some $1.50 coffee because I can't afford my usual tall hazelnut latte with cinnamon sprinkled on top. I'm pretty sure the barista's head was about to explode when I asked for such a plain beverage.

There are a few Greek flags hanging from the wall above the condiment bar, signifying that I am in Greektown. Thank you, Starbucks. I couldn't tell from the plethora of Greek restaurants lining the street. What would I do without you? All joking aside, I really do like Starbucks. Good coffee, free WiFi, great music (usually. I have heard the occasional train wreck played here) A nice place to just sit back, people-watch, and slowly kill myself due to caffeine intake. Hooray for the cooperate monster!

I really do like this city, though. It was the first major city that I had ever visited. I was in a college preparation program, we had a big trip at the end, and we went to Chicago. We stayed at the Knickerbocker hotel, there were ants in my bed and nobody talked to me, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I vowed that I would move here some day, and six years later, here I am.

It's kind of cathartic, fulfilling a dream from my younger years. It seems like such a long time ago, I was a completely different person then. Timid, bookish, and friendless. However, I fell in love with this city, a love that was not surpassed until I hit the New York City streets for the first time. I'm starting to think for the sake of my younger self (and my wallet) that I should stay here for a while. Perhaps go to school, slow down, get a job. I've been feeling like I need to do everything RIGHT NOW since I moved away, as if I'm running out of time or something. I know I'm not, my life is only just starting, but I think we all do that when we first move away from home.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

An Update and Thoughtful Thoughts

An update!

I'm leaving Pittsburgh for Erie to visit my brother from another mother. After that, I'm heading to Chicago for a month and then it's off to New York City for a while. I'm ecstatic.

I will now leave you with my thoughtful thoughts. They're kind of heavy.


1. The night before you leave a place is always so surreal. No matter where you're leaving, a room, a house, or even a city, the same thing happens. You lay in bed and stare at the ceiling as memories from the past however long you were there fill your head. You smile when you remember all of the adventures you've shared with your friends and push everything else to the back of your mind. The bad, the mind numbingly boring, and whatever else you don't care to remember. Though we may forget the exact details of these things, the sour taste will linger, poisoning the feeling you have towards the place. Nowhere is necessarily bad, it's all about the memories we associate with them, opinions can change as time goes by. But life goes on, bigger and better things are always on the horizon for those who are willing to look.

2. Living with people is a very different experience than just simply being their friend. The charming facade that they present dissolves after a week of constant contact. After that, all that's left is who they really are, their core being. You have to decide whether you still like that person or otherwise. Their mask can differ so much from their real face that it is almost alarming. There's nothing wrong with the masks we adorn, everyone does it. If we were exactly who we are all the time, the world would be a much less peaceful place. Sometimes friendships grow stronger after this period, other times they fade into nothing but resentment and sadness.